A Young Broken Soul
by RLynnT
Summary: The life Harry knew before he discovered his true home.


The children watched the second hand tick closer and closer to their freedom. Hardly anyone was listening to the teacher giving her final points on the board. They were all excited for what was to come when they were released.  
CHIIIIIIIING  
Chairs toppled over as the students kicked them aside and sprinted out the door. A group of boys held back for a second to get instructions from their leader, a large boy with blonde hair who looked like a full-sized pig wearing clothes.  
"Head him off at the park," the boy instructed maliciously, "hold him 'til I get there." He was so large, he knew he'd be the last there, but it didn't matter. Nothing would start without him there.  
The boys nodded and were out the door almost instantly, pushing down girls in their way. The bulging blonde boy evilly smiled as they left.

Fifteen minutes later, in the park five blocks away, almost all of the kids in class were huddled together in excitement. There was a large open circle that the kids were gazing at. Dudley walked up slowly, savoring the cheers of his fans. Though he was only seven, he took up the space of three of his classmates.  
Finally, Dudley reached the center of the circle and looked down hungrily at his favorite target. The boys he instructed earlier were holding his hands behind his back and forced him down to his knees. One of them grabbed a hack of jet black hair and forced it up to look at Dudley.  
The elementary crowd cheered louder as Dudley advanced.  
"FIGHT!" They screamed.  
WHAM!  
Dudley's fist rammed into the boy's stomach, and he heard the wind forced out of his lungs.  
BAM!  
Dudley's knee collided into the boy's face. The boy was so small that every blow seemed effortless…. So Dudley hit harder. The boy struggled for freedom between blows, but four boys were either holding him back from running away or shoving him harder into the ground. The crowd was jumping with excitement and they chanted "Fight! Fight! Fight!" All of them were cheering for Dudley. Not one kid gave the small boy a second thought.  
The fight went on for over an hour. Dudley paused, massaging his knuckles. The kids begged for more. He looked down at the boy.  
He was curled up in the grass in agonizing pain. His ribs were surely broken, his nose was bleeding, his lip was swollen and bloody, both eyes were blackened but one eye was so puffy that he couldn't open it. There was a cut on his cheek from when his face hit a small, sharp rock. The rest of his injuries were hidden by his clothes. He was struggling for breath with his bruised arms wrapped around his stomach.  
"Is he done, Dud?" one boy asked.  
Dudley thought for a moment. The boy looked up helplessly. Dudley then ran up and kicked his face so violently that he was thrown back on his back with a fresh open wound on his forehead.  
"Now he's done." Dudley said.  
The crowd groaned in disappointment and dispersed. All of them shared their favorite moments.  
"Did you hear him squeal?"  
"That was a lot of blood."  
"That wallop to the eye- wow!"  
Dudley and his gang walked away opposite of the crowd laughing at the great fun they just had.  
The boy lay alone on the grass groaning in pain and gasping for air. There was no one there but him. His mouth was full of blood. He was shaking horribly. He tried to push himself up onto his knees but got dizzy and threw up. He gazed at the ground panting, his mind surprisingly empty.  
After a moment to catch is breath, he noticed how blurry his vision was. It was bad enough that he could only see out of one eye, but as he reached for his glasses, which were several feet away, he realized they were broken. The wire holding the two lenses together had snapped. He tried to stick the pieces back together but already knew it was hopeless.  
The sun was setting. The darkness was threatening to take the sky. After a few more minutes in the peaceful silence and solitude, Harry slowly stood up. One of his ankles was sprained when the boys forced him down in front of his giant cousin.  
Deciding he had no other choice, he limped his way back toward the Dursley's house. Tears seeped out of his blackened, puffy green eyes. He tried to wipe them away along with the leftover blood from his nose, cheek and forehead. The whole time walking, he kept asking himself why he deserved this, why no one stood up to help him, and, above all, what it would be like to have a real home.


End file.
